Love Lost Love
by MissHoshigaki
Summary: A selection of short AkaSaku one-shots written in modern day AU.
1. Baggage (Kisame)

Title: **Baggage**

Pairing: KisaSaku

Words: 401

* * *

"Hey! Stop!"

Sakura jumped at the sound of the booming voice coming from behind her. 'I'd hate to be the poor fool being chased by that maniac,' she thought, and walked faster towards the exit. She recognized the voice from the train ride, knowing it was attached to a menacing looking man who had trouble written all over him. She didn't want to be around if a fight broke out.

"You, with the pink hair!"

She froze. It's not like there was more than one person with pink hair at the train station. She glanced over her shoulder.

To her horror the huge, muscular man was sprinting towards her. All 6 ft 2, 200+ pounds of him hurtling in her general direction and she felt the strong compulsion to flee. What could he possibly want? Was she being robbed?

He skidded to a stop beside her, huffing and puffing from exertion. He was sure breathing heavily for someone who had only run 100 meters. How was he so fit looking if that was enough to wear him out?

Nevertheless, she stared at him like a deer in headlights, clutching her purse with one hand and kept a white-knuckle grip on the handle of her suitcase with the other.

Still hunched over catching his breath, he pointed at her bag. She knew it; this was a robbery, although it was a little ineffective. What, did he think she was going to just hand over her luggage to this out of shape thief?

"Do you need something, _sir_?" She rolled her suitcase closer to her side.

"That's my bag," he gasped finally.

"No, it's not." This was definitely her bag. What game was he playing at?

"It's mine," he insisted. She almost jumped back when he reached into his pocket. A knife? A gun? No, an inhaler. He took a puff, held in the breath, exhaled, and slowly started to breath normally. "Look at the tag; it says Hoshigaki."

She looked at the tag that was definitely not normally on her bag. It said Hoshigaki.

Now that she took a good look at it, although it was the same colour and style as hers this suitcase had frays and scuffs that she didn't recognize.

"Oh," was all Sakura could say as she handed it over.

"Yours is still over by the baggage claim," he assured her, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb.

* * *

AN: I just love them so much uwu None of these stories are strictly romance, more like a prelude to _some_ kind of relationship. Maybe its romantic, maybe it's friendship, take it however you want.

Thanks for reading!


	2. Fire-Eater (Deidara)

Title: **Fire-Eater**

Pairing: DeiSaku

Words: 420

* * *

She couldn't help but stare.

He was young, and shirtless, and _eating fire_.

The blond man stood in the middle of a gathering crowd of tourists who 'oo'ed and 'aww'ed as he spat fire three feet in the air above their heads. The show continued and he showed off his increasingly dangerous talent. He spat fire, he juggled flaming torches, he even made a few things explode. The more they reacted the more risks he seemed to take. Sakura was enthralled.

He held up both hands, and the crowd grew quiet, eager to see what he would do next. His eyes swept over the crowd, a manic glow in his electric blue eyes, making sure all attention was on him. Suddenly he was staring directly at Sakura, a feral grin curled threw his lips, and she couldn't look away. Without breaking eye contact until the last second, he tilted his head back, bringing the lit end of his torch to his mouth and slowly lowered it in. Sakura gasped along with the other onlookers as the the flames fizzled out and he was miraculously okay.

He took a sweeping bow, long blond hair falling over his head, and the audience erupted in applause.

Sakura approached the collection basket once the crowd disapated, hand full of change. The coins clinked softly as they fell on the growing pile of money; he was doing well. How could he not in such a busy, touristy plaza with so much talent?

"Enjoy the show?" He asked, toned chest glistening with sweat in the hot midday sun. Black soot stained from his fingers all the way up his forearms. He left a streak across his cheek as he wiped the moisture away with the back of his hand and it stood out starkly against his golden-brown skin. It only made him look more dramatic.

"It was intense!" Sakura crowed. His eyes lit up at the compliment. "I've never seen something like that before! It must've been difficult to learn."

"It's an art, yeah," he grinned, "I have a natural talent." He was just oozing with pride. "So, do you wanna get a beer?"

Sakura smiled slyly. "You don't even know my name."

"I'd like to." He leaned in closer and she could feel the heat radiating from his sun-kissed skin. He was an explosion just waiting to happen, he wouldn't be a slow burn. He was a bright flash that only lasted seconds, but damn, he was impressive. Maybe that was just what she needed.

* * *

AN: I find the idea of street performer!Deidara really alluring and sort of plausible in a modern day AU and just imagine him him in all his glory; blond, blue eyes, golden tan... *sigh*

Thanks for reading!


	3. Philosophy (Kakuzu)

Title: **Philosophy**

Pairing: KakuSaku

Words: 363

* * *

Sakura dug through her purse, searching desperately for her wallet. She always had her wallet on her. Always.

Apparently not today.

"I am so sorry," she said, still rustling through her bag, very aware of the long line of impatient lunch hour rush customers behind her. She had already ordered her coffee and muffin before she realized something was amiss. The man behind her was making increasingly annoyed sounds. Finally, she looked up, defeated. "I don't have my wallet on me. Sorry."

She wasn't really sure what she was supposed to do now as the haggard cashier stared at her, unimpressed. Did she just leave or what? The man behind her sounded absolutely disgusted.

"Move aside," he growled, and she quickly jumped out of his way as he pushed by her to the counter. "I'll have a large coffee, black." He sent her a chilling side glance, "I'll pay for her." He spat the last part like rancid words in him mouth.

What? She looked at him, confused. She didn't expect that.

"Thank you," Sakura sputtered. He continued to scowl. She dug through her purse and retrieved a scrap piece of paper and a pen, and scribbled her name and number in her neat handwriting. "I'll pay you back."

He took the paper and his scowl weakened. He still looked intimidating, scars running across both cheeks, puckered skin only emphasizing the feeling that he wasn't the type of person to trifle with. His expensive suit and shiny shoes only made him less approachable.

"I hate to be indebted to strangers," Sakura shrugged, and he seemed to approve.

"Good philosophy." He nodded and typed her number into his Blackberry. Sakura's phone pinged a few seconds later with what she expected was a text from him. He grabbed his coffee and left without a word. She watched him stalk menacingly down the sidewalk towards the banking district, pedestrians scrambling to get out of his way.

Sakura took her muffin and coffee to one of the empty tables on the sunny patio. She checked her phone and sure enough, there was a text from an unknown number. 'Kakuzu,' it read, 'Tomorrow. Same time, same place. $5.37.'

* * *

AN: I don't think there is enough KakuSaku. There just isn't. So here is my small contribution to this very, _very_ crack ship. He's such a bastard, but we love him anyway.

Thanks for reading!


	4. Spectacles (Itachi)

Title: **Spectacles**

Pairing: ItaSaku

Words: 429

* * *

"Excuse me, what is your opinion of these frames?"

He was so handsome it hurt. He belonged in a movie or the pages of a magazine, and definitely not in the little eyewear store that Sakura was currently in.

She stared at him for longer than she should before sputtering an answer, feeling like an idiot. "They're good."

"Good," he repeated slowly, "but not great?" She realized that he wanted an answer, but she was drawing a blank. His dark eyes and dark lashes required her full attention and left her tongue tied.

"What about these?" He put on another pair. Thick rimmed and heavy in a dark navy colour. She regarded them critically, trying to ignore the attractive and patient face behind them.

"No, they're too big for your face." She searched through a few on the table in front of her, eager to find a pair he'd like. "Besides, the colour's no good." When was she going to get another chance to play makeover with a model? She spotted one that looked better suited for him.

"Try these ones," she handed them over. He slid them delicately onto his face and squinted into the mirror. "The frames are smaller so they don't obscure your face." Your gorgeous face, she wanted to say, but didn't. They were simple black square half frames with delicate chrome arms.

He stood there quietly as she inspected them, nodding. "They suit you." He was very, very handsome and those glasses only added to his appeal.

"I have a hard time choosing nice frames by myself," he explained, taking them off to squint at them. "I can't really see them without my glasses on."

Sakura's face cracked into a wicked smile. She had an idea. "How about I take your picture so you can see it." Added bonus, she could have proof to show Ino later of the god-like man she had met in the glasses store. He smiled pleasantly, putting the frames back on.

"Great idea."

Sakura got out her phone and he continued to smile so sweetly she felt like she might melt. She snapped a few shots. "Okay good; got it." She handed him the phone once he had his own thick lenses back on. "What do you think?"

"I like them," he agreed. "Thank you for the help..." Paused, waiting for her to supply her name. She obliged, happily.

"Sakura," she held out her hand, giving a smile so flirty Ino would be proud, "Haruno Sakura."

He shook her hand, returning the flirty smile to her amazement. "Uchiha Itachi."

* * *

AN: I found this one really challenging to write. I have no idea why. I just really like the idea of modern day AU Itachi wearing glasses, and I know that my mom has to use this trick to pick glasses because she can't see them otherwise. I imagine his eyesight would be pretty terrible and Sasuke would refuse to help him (cuz he's a little shit) so he would have to rely on the kindness of strangers to help him.

Thanks for reading!


	5. Wrong Number (Hidan)

Title: **Wrong Number**

Pairing: HidaSaku

Words: 354

*slight warning: swearing, nasty language ahead. It's Hidan after all.*

* * *

When Sakura checked her phone at 6 am one morning before work she was surprised to find she had a dozen missed calls from an unknown number and six messages waiting in her voicemail. Curious, she scrolled to the first one, time stamped 1:56 am.

"You have six new messages," her answering machine said in an electronic voice, "First message play back," there was a pause and then a mans voice she didn't recognize started speaking. "It's Hidan. Call me."

Short, sweet and to the point. Too bad she didn't know a 'Hidan'.

"Second message play back," the machine continued, "Hey, dickwad, I said call me."

Not so sweet. The third message started playing, time stamped 3:16 am.

"What the fuck, man? Call me, now!"

And the fourth.

"You motherfucker! Seriously! I've called you, like, a million time. Fucking pick up your goddamn fucking phone, you cum-guzzling-"

Sakura pressed the 'skip message' button and frowned. She hoped this was a wrong number. She scrolled to the top and hit the most recent one.

It was time stamped ten minutes ago. "Last message play back," the robotic voice chimed. "Fuck you. I'm coming over."

Sakura's mouth hung open in horror. It _was_ a wrong number, right? This psycho wasn't coming over to _her_ house, right? She didn't really want to take the chance. She fumbled with the controls, finally finding the number and hit call.

It rang twice.

"About time, douchbag!" a familiar voice shouted through the speaker. She could hear chatter in the background; was he on a bus? "I'm going to kick your fucking ass as soon as I get to your shitty little house. Seriously!"

"You have the wrong number!" Sakura squeaked, it was too early for this. Hidan was silent for a few moments. She waited.

"What?"

"You have the wrong number," she repeated, "my name is Sakura and I don't think I know you..." She trailed off, at least he wasn't yelling at her anymore.

"Huh," he sounded like he had lost his steam, "So, I guess you got those messages then."

"Yes."

"No wonder that fucking bastard wasn't responding."

* * *

AN: I think I had the most fun writing this one. Oh Hidan, so fun to write his dialogue. Ever since playing Cards Against Humanity I really wanted to use the phrase 'cum-guzzling' inspired by the '_Pac-Man_ Uncontrollably _Guzzling_ Cum' card. Nasty, but I think it's something he would say.

Thanks for reading!


	6. Mango Melon (Sasori)

**Title: Mango Melon**

Pairing: SasoSaku

Words: 511

* * *

She couldn't believe it; it was in stock again! Sakura spotted it from the automatic doors as soon as she entered the small convenience store. Just sitting there, in the refrigerated bunker, was her favorite flavor of juice.

Now, she knew it was silly to be so excited about a certain kind of juice. Sakura didn't care. Every time she was fortunate enough to stumble upon it she made sure to buy a bottle. The only problem was that it was hardly ever in stock, and when it was it was quickly snatched up. It was also pretty expensive for a starving art student to afford, but she worked it into her budget when she could.

She didn't want to take any chances so she made a bee-line to the bunker. She was just about to reach out and grab one when someone else beat her to it. They took the last two bottles.

"What are you looking at?" the redheaded man grumbled hardly sparing her a glance as she stared at him, slack-jawed. He was not much taller than her with shaggy red hair and tired looking green eyes. He dropped the two bottles into his basket beside some cheap cup ramen and a loaf of sliced white bread.

Why was he being so unpleasant?

"I was going to take one of those," she ventured. Maybe he would take pity on her and let her take one.

"Whatever." He stalked away with both bottles of delicious Mango Melon juice.

It was at that moment that she swore a silent vendetta against him.

She saw him the next three time she was in the convenience store, each time he beat her to the juice and each time he would buy every bottle. She was starting to think he was doing it just to spite her, but that would be crazy right? She was the one with the grudge, why would he be purposely pissing her off.

The next time she went it he was nowhere in sight. And it was there, waiting for her. She had to stop herself from sprinting, but in no time she had it in her grasp. Finally!

"Yes!" she cheered, thrusting her fist in the air. The other shoppers to stare at her, but she didn't care. She had it at last. She grabbed the other two bottles in contempt, willing him to walk in and see her buying the lot.

After she purchased her prizes, and tried to forget about the final price, she sat on the concrete turtarrier in the parking lot beside the store. She cracked open one of the bottles and took a delicious, satisfying swig.

"So good," she murmured to herself, her cheeks tingled with the sweetness and she savored every drop.

The man came stalking out of the store a few moments later, looking frustrated. She caught his eye and he stopped to glare at her and her plastic bag full of Mango Melon juice. She smiled sweetly and took another sip, maintaining eye contact.

The redhead stomped away, defeated.

* * *

AN: this is an ode to my favorite kind of juice: Sobe Energizer Mango Melon. They never have it at the drugstore near me, but they had it today. So good! I have never had a juice war with a cute redhead though. I hope Sasori wasn't too OOC, I have a hard time writing him. Thanks for reading!


	7. Sink andor Swim (Kisame)

Title: **Sink and/or Swim**

Pairing: KisaSaku

Words: 379

Sometimes even the best swimmers sink. Modern AU

AN: another KisaSaku because it is my favorite. Sorry I haven't updated in a while! Updates on this fic will be sporadic but I'll add to it as inspiration strikes.

His lungs hurt. Like, _really_ hurt. And he was cold and wet and he was pretty sure someone was yelling at him but everything sounded dull and far away. Gradually, the noise became crisper as consciousness rushed back to him but he felt too worn out to open his eyes just yet. He felt a hand not too lightly slap his face and he winced away sluggishly, trying his best to squint his eyes open at whoever was assaulting him in his weakened state.

An angel? With pink hair?

That was the first thing he saw in the space above him. Bright green eyes framed by long lashes, worry etched between them, and soft pink hair hung around the heart shaped face with a backdrop of blue sky's and blinding light.

"He's awake," the angel called to the bystanders that had now come into focus circling them. He shivered and moved to sit up but the the world seemed to be spinning. Where was he again? Her hand gently pushed him back down on the sand. "Just take it easy, big guy. How are you feeling?"

He considered the question. "Like shit," he rasped with some difficulty. "What happened?"

"You don't remember?" the angel asked. He shook his head 'no' in lieu of speaking again. "You got caught in a big wave and probably hit your head on your board on your way down. I had to jump in and save you."

Right. He was at the beach. There was a huge wave that took him by surprise, he lost his footing and then nothing. How embarrassing. He groaned and palmed his forehead; the right side of his head was pounding now that he thought about it. He looked back at the woman who save him; taking stock of her small, delicate frame. "_You_ saved me?" he asked sceptically. The corner of her mouth twitched with annoyance.

"I'm _stronger_ than I look," she grumbled, looking less like an angel. He croaked out a laugh.

"Whatever you say, angel," he wheezed, closing his eyes. He was tired again and he could feel sleep pulling him back down.

"I think he has a concussion," he could hear the not-an-angel say, but it sounded murky and distant. He couldn't help but agree.


	8. Something (Kisame)

Title: **Something**

Pairing: KisaSaku

Words: 632

* * *

His hand cut through the surface of the water soundlessly as he propelled himself forward effortlessly, with a grace he had achieved after years of practice and a lot of natural talent. He was going fast, but not nearly as fast as he could go, biding his time until his training time was up. The next group, a beginner level swimming class, was scheduled to start after his blocked off hour in the morning. He was supposed to be out of the pool ten minutes before it started so the instructor had time to set up for their class, but he always found himself pushing it as much as he could, spending a little extra time cooling down.

It had nothing to do with the instructor. No, no of course not.

He reached the wall and stood up, pulling off his goggles and cap. Just in time, he heard the door creak open as he hauled himself out of the pool, water glistening on his broad back. It always just happened that she arrived when he was going to do his cool down stretching. He held one arm across his chest with the other, breathing in deeply and tilting his head away. He could hear her rummaging around in the supply closet, retrieving flutter boards and pool noodles and whatever else she needed to teach a handful of unruly kids. Once he was done he rolled his shoulders back a few times, feeling sufficiently cooled down.

"Hey, Kisame," Sakura called across the pool, "How's it going?"

"H-hey," he stuttered back with a small wave. No matter how many times he talked to her, he always ended up embarrassed and fumbling. It was something about her clear green eyes, her gentle smile, the cute little ponytail her hair was always in... Even the sound of her voice was enough to make his own voice seize up. He cleared his throat. "I'm good, just finishing up."

That was it. That was the extent of most of their conversations. He always thought of chatting her up but he didn't want to bother her while she was working, besides he didn't have anything to talk about. At the moment, his life revolved around training and sleeping as he prepared for the qualification rounds for the next big swimming competition and he was certain she would just find it boring. He grabbed his towel and put it around his neck, taking a swig from his water bottle as he got ready to go to the change room. He paused when he could hear the light sound of her foot steps coming closer. His heartbeat sped up. Was he dreaming? He was pretty sure something like this had happened in one of his dreams...

"I heard that you have a big competition next week." He turned to face her. She had stopped a few feet behind him, clipboard in hand and whistle around her neck. She was even prettier close up, pink hair loose around her shoulders today. She waited expectantly and it took him a few seconds of awkward staring to realize she was waiting for him to say something.

"Yeah," he managed to get out, trying his best to remember something, anything, about the competition that he could tell her. He was drawing a blank and the silence lapsed on. In a last ditch effort, he blurted out: "You can come watch if you want."

He expected for her to say no, to say she was busy, and why would she want to go watch the qualification rounds for a swimming competition she wasn't even interested in? He was ready for rejection when her pretty lips spread into smile.

"I'd love to." And his heart burst. He tried to not let it show on his face.

* * *

AN: I am so, so sorry I haven't updated in such a long time. This morning I woke up with this idea and just wrote it twenty minutes ago, so maybe my muse is back? Who knows. I hope you thought it was cute!

If you have any little prompts or ideas you want me to write you can always send them to my Tumblr (MissHoshigaki) and I can try to use it. (Try being the operative word) It can be any AkaSaku pairing! (You can also just say 'Hi' if you want uwu)


	9. Autopsy Vol I (Kakuzu)

Title: **Autopsy Vol.I  
**

Pairing: KakuSaku

Words: 863

* * *

She covered the body with with the white sheet and snapped her gloves off, walking to the sink to wash her hands. Everything had been weighed and measured and documented, meticulously written down in a notebook to be handed over to the police so they could continue with their investigation. This was the first murder she had ever worked by herself, and she thought she had done a pretty good job.

She picked up the phone to let the office know she was done.

"The autopsy's finished," Sakura said, looking over at the corpse lying peacefully on the steel slab under the sheet. "You can send the guys to pick it up now."

"They just left," Ino whined on the other end of the line. "Should I call them back?"

"Yeah, the family wanted to bury him as soon as possible, so the faster the mortician can pick him up the better." She could hear her friend grumble under her breath.

"I really hoped I wouldn't have to see them again today..." Ino muttered, "You know how they are."

"Actually I've never met them. I've never been here when they pick up the bodies." Ino let out a laugh; Sakura felt uneasy in the morgue for the first time. Somehow she had managed to be busy every time a body was picked up. She was either with a live patient, doing paperwork, or otherwise occupied and she was starting to wonder if Tsunade had been purposely sending her away.

"You're in for a treat. I'll call them back right now." Ino hung up. Sakura could only guess what she meant by that.

Sakura busied herself with paperwork while she waited, uncharacteristically anxious about meeting the unorthodox mortician and his assistant that she had only heard stories about. This was the first day she had temporarily taken up the position of head coroner. Her mentor, Tsunade, had taken a forced leave of absence ordered by her superiors. Tsunade was dedicated to her work and, given the chance, would work herself into the ground if no one intervened. They arrived twenty minutes later.

"Knock, knock!" A white haired man shouted as he roughly shoved the swinging door open, "We're here for the stiff." His grinning face fell when he saw her. "Oi, you're not her. Where's the one with the big ti-"

A second man came through the door behind him, smacking him over the head with a broad palm without missing a step, stopping him mid-offensive sentence and sending him staggering forward. He was broad shouldered and tall, with glossy dark brown hair pulled into a loose pony tail that spilled down his back between his shoulder blades. There was a certain presence he carried with him and it made Sakura uneasy. She would have pinned it on the fact that he spent his days slicing into the dead for a living, but that would be hypocritical considering the task she had just finished. He stalked over to the autopsy table, hardly glancing her way, and pulled on a pair of heavy duty gloves.

"This the one?" He asked, voice gruff and rumbling, lifting the sheet to take a look at the identification tag. "Where's the coroner? I need her to sign this." He gestured with a clipboard, fixing Sakura with his striking green eyes over one shoulder.

"Tsunade-taicho is on leave; I'm the head coroner for the next three months." She strode to him and took the clipboard, doing her best to sound in control. She plucked the pen from the breast pocket of her lab coat and scanned the document. "Haruno Sakura, by the way."

"You're young," he stated evenly, observing her critically. She couldn't tell if it was disbelief or approval in his voice, but whatever it was, it grated on her nerves. He didn't bother to introduce himself, still appraising her with a calculating look and Sakura could feel the tiny muscles around her eye twitch in irritation. She knew she looked young, she got that all the time. She was used to this sort of treatment in the medical field, being dismissed because of her age or because of her looks, but that didn't mean she tolerated it.

"I'm _very_ good at my job." She met his eyes with hers, a sharp smile on her lips, challenging him to say something. He was silent, and she was starting to wonder if her job was going to be very unpleasant every time they had to come by, but finally he gave a curt nod. She handed back the clipboard.

"Get the kart," he barked at the other man who was just watching their exchange. He rolled his eyes, but did as he was told, and was back with the stretcher they used to wheel the corpses to their transfer van. Sakura watched as they unzipped the black bag and maneuvered the body inside and on to the kart. The obnoxious man started pushing the stretcher out the door while the dark haired man turned back to her, holding out a large, ungloved hand.

"Kakuzu." He had a firm, surprisingly warm grip. "I look forward to working with you, Dr. Haruno."

* * *

AN: I just can't get the picture of Mortician!Kakuzu out of my head. Also, I love the guy, but I have a feeling he would be a misogynistic asshole until someone (ie Sakura) beat it out of him.


	10. Autopsy Vol II (Kakuzu)

Title: **Autopsy Vol. II  
**

Pairing: KakuSaku, N/A

Words: 3 721

This doesn't really fit in with the general theme of the other chapters but it's connected to the previous chapter so here it will go. I had a lot of fun writing this so I hope you enjoy it anyway!

** I would like to just put it out there that is a pretty morbid story about a crooked mortician. If the stories about death, disease, embalming, cremation, etc, make you uncomfortable I wouldn't recommend you read it. There is also mention of someone dying from PKD (just a heads up if you/someone you know has it because it might be upsetting). I don't even know what this is and there might be more to come?

* * *

Kakuzu sifted through the documents in front of him, calculating the worth of the heart and how much he could coerce the desperate family to pay for it. Generally, he sold them for $119,000 but he was fairly sure he could push it to $125,000 or maybe even higher. The level of desperation on the mans face reeked of a sentimentality he hardly understood but fully intended to take advantage of. It always amazed him the lengths an individual would go to save a spouse or relative. It went double for a child. The father sat across from him on the other side of his large desk, squirming nervously in a purposely uncomfortable chair.

His office was eerily quiet for all except the occasional creak from the old chair and the flutter of paper. He needed find that sweet spot to maximize profit while still proposing a realistic figure that this man could scrape together before his daughter died. It would be no good to him if the heart recipient perished before he received his cash, but if she died after it made no difference to him. Maybe he'd even get a funeral service out of this if he played his cards right. He was in it for the money, not a warm fuzzy feeling for helping someone in need. The more he could extract from this heart the better.

Kakuzu finally reached a decision and piled the documents neatly on the desk. He clasped his hands together as he leaned forward with his elbows resting on the tabletop, observing the other man in his cheap suit and dark bags under his eyes. Compassion and human kindness were a mystery to him, one he doubted he'd ever understand on a personal level, and certainly a mystery that he didn't care to solve. Obviously this man had made countless sacrifices to his own wellbeing to attempt to keep his daughter alive. To Kakuzu, that translated to a large sum in his bank account.

"$130,000," Kakuzu stated, breaking the silence with his rumbling voice. He waited and watched with cold eyes. A few common emotions past over the mans face; despair, disbelieve, resignation.

"I-I," he sputtered meekly. Either he didn't have that kind of money or he was going to try to weasel the price down. Kakuzu didn't care one way or the other; there were plenty of children who needed hearts if this deal didn't go through. In the end he could find another buyer but he didn't like it when his time was wasted."I can't do that. Can't you lower-"

"Do you realize how much I'm risking even talking about this?" He sat up to his full height, unclasping his hands and looking down his nose at this pathetic excuse for a human. "Either you give me $130,000, in cash, or you find another donor. Hearts are a scarce commodity, as I'm sure you know. You can't expect me to just give them away. Do we have a deal or not?"

The quiver of his unshaven lip, the upturn of his brows, and the soft choking noise as he covered his mouth told Kakuzu the man was about to cry. He had to look away, not because he felt guilty but because he still wanted to salvage this deal and most people found it unsavory when you scowled at their grief. He let the man weep until he settled down enough for Kakuzu to talk with out revulsion dripping from his tone.

"Do we have a deal?"

"Y-yes," the father sobbed.

"Excellent," Kakuzu responded briskly, back to business. "I will need payment in full by tomorrow at 3:00 pm. Once I have the money, the hospital will receive an unmarked cooler containing the heart. Do you understand?" The man nodded feebly, dragging one sleeve under his dripping nose. "You are not to come back here again. I have a no refund policy; if anything goes wrong in the transplant or if rejection occurs, it's not my problem." He narrowed his eyes and leaned in closer, "I'm sure I don't have to explain why it would be a mistake to tell anyone about this or attempt any retribution if it fails."

"I understand, I understand..." he said between sniffles, still nodding. Reluctantly, Kakuzu stuck out his hand to shake on it, to seal the deal, and quickly pumped some hand sanitizer in to his palm once he was free from the man's clammy hand.

Satisfied that he had secured an accord, he stood and walked around the desk, indicating to the father that their meeting had come to an end. He ushered him out of the funeral home before he could get his fluids on any other surfaces. It was times like these when Kakuzu considered keeping tissues in his office, but he knew that would convey an impression of sympathy that he was not comfortable with.

He waited impatiently as the trembling, weepy man shrugged on his coat and shuffled out the door toward his old beat up car. He shut the door as soon as his heel left the threshold, but continued to watch though the peephole to be sure he kept to the path and left the premises promptly.

Now that the man was out of his office, he locked the main door again and went down to the mortuary basement to get to his real work. He had a few bodies he had yet to work on that needed tending. Two burials and one cremation. After tieing on his apron, he rolled the first one out of the fridge and onto the steel table where he started by cleaning and disinfecting the body, breaking up the rigor mortis, and setting the facial features. There wasn't much to salvage from this body because of its condition; riddled with gun shot wounds and already autopsied by the coroner, most of the organs were too damaged to be sold. Besides, corpses connected to a police investigation always carried the risk of exhumation where missing tissue would be questioned and scrutinized. He would still make a small profit from the funeral service in any case.

Normally, burials were lucrative. He could get away with taking almost all of the organs; corneas, heart, liver, kidneys, some times even ligaments. Depending on the body and the type of clothes they would be buried in, he could also take patches of skin which went for $10 per square inch. It was a modest sum, but a profit none the less. It all depended on the cause of death and what was salvageable. Sometimes he even got lucky and knew ahead of time when a family was going to pull the plug on their comatose loved one. Then he was able to execute a harvest for some of the more time sensitive procedures, like the one he had just arranged. Otherwise the organs were sold to unknown buyers for unknown reasons, which was the way he liked it.

Cremations, on the other hand, were his favorite. He could get away with the entire corpse if he felt like it. As long as he gave the family approximately 4 to 6 pounds of ash they didn't notice the difference. A lot of money could be pulled from one body and there was always a handful of people who where willing to buy what he was selling.

Once the mouth was sewn shut and the eyes were glued, he began inserting the tube to drain any remaining blood and pump in the preservative fluid to start the embalming process. Finally, once the fluid had saturated the body, he removed the tubes and opened the Y suture left by the coroner to process the organs with a solution of formaldehyde and then sewed it shut again.

When Kakuzu really thought about it, he did enjoy this aspect of his job. It was calming and methodical, putting things in order and cleaning them up. Dealing with the dead was so much simpler than dealing with the living and, if he were being completely honest, he preferred the company of a corpse over almost all of the people he had the misfortune to meet. There were a handful that didn't make him want to slit their throats but they were few and far between.

Before he knew it, he had finished preparing the second body as well and he could finally inspect the third body to assess what kind of profit he would make. The individual was young, maybe mid to late thirties, with smooth, unmarked skin and hair long enough to sell for wig making. Apparently the next of kin decided against an autopsy so the large Y incision was absent from the torso. Just judging from their outwards appearance he was sure he would make at least $600,000 if everything else was in good enough condition.

He grabbed the chart and flipped to the page that indicated cause of death: a brain aneurysm. The attending physician concluded it was due to a weakened the blood vessel wall in the circle of Willis that just couldn't hold up anymore. He frowned slightly. If he was right, and he was pretty sure he was, that meant the kidney's would be unsellable. He flipped back a few pages and sure enough, they had recently been diagnosed with polycystic kidney disease. He grumbled to himself; he'd probably make a bigger profit selling the body as a whole instead of by part now, but no where near the amount he originally thought.

Kakuzu marked down a few figures and calculations and then rolled the imperfect corpse back into it's spot in the fridge. Kakuzu collected every tool he had used and put the ones he could into the autoclave and the ones he couldn't to the skin where he meticulously hand washed them. He scrubbed every surface with a harsh sanitizer and finally deposited his sullied apron into the laundry. Before he went back up stairs he spent a few minute throughly washing his hands up to the elbow.

When he returned to his office he picked up the phone and dialed a familiar number; it was time to arrange a heart transplant. He waited as it rang twice; the person on the other end picked up, voice bored and flat.

"Hello, you've reached Sunrise Dry Cleaners. Can I help you?"

"Five-eight-one dash three," Kakuzu relayed, never in the mood to play along with the charade.

"One moment," the voice answered. He heard the phone being set down on a hard surface and the shuffle of movement through the receiver. After a few moments of waiting the other phone was picked up again.

"What?" Hidan spat, annoyed. "You do realize I'm seriously done for the day, right? I'm not going back to the hospital again, you can find some other fucking idiot to-"

"The heart transplant is on for tomorrow," Kakuzu said, ignoring the other man's chattering. "Have the cooler delivered to the hospital at 3 pm. Don't be late." He hung up the phone without waiting for a reply. Hidan, although obnoxious, was consistently good at keeping his deliveries on time and seemed to have no qualms about dealing in the black market organ trade or grave robbing. That was probably the only reason, other than the fact they were assigned to work together, that he still tolerated him. He went through a mental checklist, making sure that everything was in order for the next day. The only thing that could throw a wrench in his plan was if the father failed to deliver the money, but with his daughters life on the line he was sure he wouldn't flake. With everything else in order, he pulled out a pile of paperwork he had yet to complete.

It was almost 7:30 by the time Kakuzu had finally completed his legitimate paperwork. Despite being involved in a lot of unsavory and illegal dealings, he was very serous about his mortuary; it was more than just maintaining appearances to him. This was a family hand-me-down, after all, and it was his name and reputation that would be dragged through the mud if anything was amiss. Avoiding suspicion in the first place was one of the reasons he was so successful and he didn't want all of his effort wasted if someone went digging too deep into his affairs.

Just as he was filing away the finished documents in their proper place, his surveillance system pinged, alerting him to the front door camera. It was late for a visit to his mortuary. He pulled up the video feed for camera 1 on his computer. To his surprise, it was the young coroner he had met that afternoon walking up the front steps. Dr. Haruno Sakura.

He watched as she paused, brought a hand up to knock, but hesitated and pulled back. She took what looked like a deep breath, smoothed down the front of her red coat, and knocked firmly on the large wooden door. He considered ignoring her; it was after hours and he was under no obligation to answer the door, but still he was intrigued by the subtle agitation he glimpsed from his monitor. He walked down the hall toward the front door.

"Dr. Haruno," Kakuzu greeted mildly, catching her mid knock when he opened the door. She blinked owlishly at him. "What brings you here?"

"I'm sorry to bother you so late," Sakura prefaced, abashed that she was there at all. "It came to my attention that there was one thing I forgot to document about the body you pick up today. Do you happen to still have it on hand?" Kakuzu considered her request silently, letting her stand there to sweat. "It'll only take around five minutes..." she trailed off. He didn't generally like letting any living person into his work area; he had learned his lesson from Hidan, a bull in a china shop if there ever was one. On the other hand, he didn't want to be accused of obstruction of an investigation, if it came to that. This was a very simple request and it might be seen as suspicious and non-compliant to refuse. And who was he to stand in the way of justice? He stepped out of the way and gestured for Sakura to come inside.

"Right this way, Dr. Haruno," he rumbled after he closed and locked the door. He could see nervousness in her face when she heard the lock click. He supposed that was understandable; a young woman locked inside a mortuary with a man she hardly knew being led down into the basement. He didn't address her fears but he did decide to go down the stairs first, flipping on the bright halogen lights as he went. Kakuzu briskly made his way to the fridge where the gunshot victim resided and rolled him out. Sakura muttered thanks as she pulled on a pair of gloves and got to work. He busied himself with tidying up a supply cabinet on the opposite end of the room, reluctant to leave her alone.

If Kakuzu had been in his office, like he would have been if Sakura hadn't been here, he would have had advance warning that Pein and Konan were about to arrive. Unfortunately, he wasn't and now Sakura was going to see some things that she really shouldn't. The first thing that alerted Kakuzu to the fact that he and the doctor weren't alone anymore was the scuffling of feet on the floor above them. Only a few people had the key to his front door so he instantly knew there was a very short list of individuals that could be in his house. Before either of them could react, the basement door crashed open and two people staggered down the stairs, one so injured that he wouldn't have been able to hold himself up if it weren't for the blue haired woman helping him.

"We have a situation," Konan called once she was almost at the foot of the stairs, barely keeping hold of Pein who could only groan with every step. He was clutching a red-stained towel to the left side of his waist. She eased him in to the first chair she came across and made sure the towel was still in place before looking around, eyes settling on Sakura. It took Dr. Haruno a split second before she jumped into action, years of training kicking in automatically when presented with a patient.

"I'm a doctor, I can help," she said calmly, ripping off her soiled gloves and reached in her pocket for a clean pair as she rushed over to the injured Pein. "Kakuzu, please call 911."

Konan shot him a questioning look. _Can we trust her?_ Under the circumstances it looked like they had no choice. He gave a curt nod, and turned to Sakura. "We can't do that. Can you treat him here?"

"What do you mean _you can't do that_?" Sakura asked, confused, and turned on him, "This man needs a hospital. He probably needs a blood transfusion."

Kakuzu took a step forwards, towering above her. "_Can you treat him here?_" he hissed. There was no explanation he could give without giving too much information. "I have supplies."

She glared right back at him, but he could see her resolve weaken, the need to help overriding her need to obey procedure. The doctor scowled. "Damnit," she muttered, looking around the room. "Is that table sterilized?" She jerked her head toward one of the steel autopsy gurneies.

"Of course."

"Good. Help me get him on there." He and Konan set to the task of easing Pein on to the cold table. "I'll need those supplies." She lifted up the bloody towel to inspect the wound, grimacing. "Is this a gunshot wound?" she asked cautiously, but got no reply. Kakuzu returned swiftly with a first aid kit, suture supplies, and blood bags.

"How long ago was he shot?" Sakura asked as she cut up the front of his shirt to gain better access to his injury. Konan stayed silent, stony glare impassable. "I need to know so I can estimate if or how much blood he needs." Her gaze flicked quickly to Kakuzu, looking for confirmation that she should really divolge any info. He gave a sharp nod; if the information could save his life it was worth giving up.

"About 20 minutes ago," Konan replied hesitantly.

Both Konan and Kakuzu took a step back to let her work.

"Who is she?" Konan asked in a hushed tone. She was rightfully suspicious of the woman currently tending to their leader. For the first time in a long time Kakuzu wasn't sure how events were going to unfold.

"Dr. Haruno Sakura. She's the head coroner at Konoha Medical," Kakuzu answered, keeping his voice to a minimum too.

"How much does she know?"

"Nothing, before you showed up," he shot back.

"It was unavoidable," Konan's voice was icy. "You never have outside personnel here, I thought it would have been safe. Can we trust her?"

"I'm not sure yet," Kakuzu mused as he watched her work. It appeared Pein was stabilizing so at least her medical abilities were up to snuff. It was also to their advantage her priorities were easily shuffled judging by how quickly he convinced her they couldn't take him to the hospital. Maybe she could be an asset in the future. It was a shame he hasn't done his homework on her yet to scrownge up any backmail material that would make her more compliant. It was normal procedure for him to research weakpoints on all new accociates, just in case. "I'm sure we can work something out."

"There's always room at Sunrise," she supplied.

"No," he hummed, "She's too important to disappear."

Sakura covered Pein with a blanket once she was finished stitching him up, making sure the IV lines were uninhibited before rounding on the two conversing quietly behind her.

"You two are lucky these were superficial wounds. If his organs were damaged there wouldn't have been much I could do," she chidded as she pulled off her blood streaked gloves. "Are either of you going to fill me in on what's happening?" She sounded irritated and on edge, which was understandable.

"No," Kakuzu answered briskly.

"What do you mean 'no'? I think I have the right to-"

Kakuzu held up a hand to cut her off. "It's better if you don't know too much," feigning concern for her well being, poorly. "You don't want to get involved with this. Now, if you got what you came here for you should go." He gestured to the dead gunshot victim on the other side of the room that was forgotten in the chaos.

She stared at him, mouth hanging slightly open, for a few moments, mind running to try and make sense of the situation. It wasn't an outright threat, but he was sure she registered that being connected to this meant danger. Sakura's teeth clicked when she shut her mouth in a firm line, eyes drifting to the orange haired man recovering on the gurney.

"Fine. I got what I needed." She crossed her arms and attempted to stand tall. Despite what she was trying to project, he could sense she knew she had stumbled upon something she shouldn't have. She was a smart woman, after all. "He should really go to the hospital."

"We'll keep that in mind," Kakuzu grumbled, watching as she started up the stairs. Even though she was doing the smart thing now, there was no telling if she would go to the police later and she was too high profile to get rid of; he needed to find an angle on her, and fast. He trudged up the steps behind her, keeping at a non-threatening following distance. The doctor waited impatiently at the door; Kakuzu produced the key from his pocket and unlocked it. With his hand still on the handle, he turned to her. "Keep what happened here between us." She nodded once, not looking at him, jaw still clenched.

"I'll be seeing you, Dr. Haruno," he called after her as she hurried down the steps and out into the night. She didn't look back.


End file.
